When the Smoke Clears
by E.Leighton
Summary: Hard times shook the BAU following Emily's death, but four years later they have a new kind of normal. Could the news of Doyle's death, and its consequences, jar the unit once more? Or more importantly, will they make it to the other side intact?


** Hello all! So, this is a repost. I didn't realize that you had to go in and redo all the formatting on the Doc Manager, which it turns out is necessary if you don't want to end up with one ridiculously long paragraph. Apparently when I (mis)read the guidelines, I thought said that OpenOffice wouldn't require further editing once uploaded. (Haha, yeah, right.) I'd like to thank graymatter007 for pointing that out.**

** So to start off, yes, this is an Emily returns futurefic. Original, I know. It's mostly canon with the series, but a few things have been tweaked to suit my needs. You'll know when you get to them, but most won't come into play until the next chapter. I haven't posted to any site in a long time, so any feedback, (Seriously, **_**any.**_**) would be greatly appreciated.**

** One last thing before I start... I am new to this, and therefore, I was wondering if anyone would consider beta-ing for me? I looked in the Beta section of the site, and let's just say I found it more than a little daunting. I would mainly be looking for motivational purposes, as I don't tend to finish much of what I start. But I also need someone to keep me on course, as sometimes my writing strays a little too far away from the main idea. And of course, there's grammar and comma watch. If anyone is interested, let me know.**

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><p><em>Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.<em>

_-Paulo Coehlo_

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><p>Chapter 1<br>Quantico, VA- June 6, 2015

It wasn't uncommon to walk into the office of Jennifer Jareau to find her with a phone carefully balanced on her shoulder, while simultaneously tapping away on her keyboard, and sipping coffee periodically from the red 'World's Best Mom' mug that sat on a coaster by her nameplate. Sometimes, at busy points it was even possible to find her glancing at an open file, trying to pick through the gory details, even with everything else going on.

This would've been the scene if one had peeked into the room mere seconds ago, when she had been doing all four things. But in the time it takes to get out a good sneeze, her typing had tapered down to nil and her coffee cup was placed back on the desk. Her eyes went wide and could no longer focus, let alone read small print from the file, and her phone had nearly fallen from its perch between her sweater and ear.

"He's dead," she repeated, not fully sure that she had heard the man on the other end of the line correctly. But his deep voice, crackling over the phone, assured her once more that her ears were not deceiving her. Never in her life had JJ thought she would be at such a loss for words. After all, it was her job to have the right thing to say at any given moment, even after the toughest of cases. But this news... Well, it shocked her to the core. It had been so long since she'd even given rise to the possibility of the occurrence, that hearing of its actuality stunned her into silence. Her mind filled to capacity at all of the outcomes that this death could have- both good and bad.

"Agent Jareau? Agent Jareau, are you still there?"

She shook her head, as if to clear it just a bit, if only enough that she could concentrate on the words coming from the NSA agent "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked if you would like the contact information of our department head, Eckherd. I know the BAU has a special interest in this case, and he has far more on it than I do." It wasn't so much of a request for permission, but more a segway into the presentation of the information.

Jennifer nodded eagerly, but stopped immediately out of sheer embarrassment when she remembered he couldn't actually see her. "Yes, that would be great, Agent Kepler."

The man recited both of his superior's office line numbers, and JJ copied them in bold print onto the first scrap of paper she managed to find. She gave her rushed thanks, and soon after they bid their farewells. The document on her computer, the open file, and her coffee were all long forgotten.

The next hour flew by in a flurry of activity for the blonde. A good portion of that time was spent trying to actually get ahold of the department head who had gone out for an early lunch. When he finally called her back, he was obviously agitated, but she couldn't bring herself to sympathize. After all, he was the one who had taken the early break. But after a while he seemed to understand her urgency, and attempted to help in the best way he could.

Which wasn't much. Agent Kepler's assessment of 'far more' may have been a bit of a stretch. Sure, Eckherd had a bit more information, such as the actual location of most of the assassinations, and names. Other than that, though, he didn't have much. He did, however, agree to fax over any and all the information they had gathered.

And after she was assured that all had been sent, her count came to a grand total of twenty papers. Obviously these homicides hadn't been of highest priority.

She sifted through document after document, and somehow managed to sort it into some order. The total death count was sixteen, and they were scattered across the continent- the first took place in Ukraine, followed by one in Hungary, then another two in Ireland. They were nearly spread across the whole European map, with Doyle's Swiss assassination being the final.

It was a steady string of similar murders, but JJ could easily see how the link could be missed. In the United States, murder investigations rarely made it into nearby police jurisdictions. An international case as random as this would be nearly impossible to connect.

Confident that she had learned all she could from her time with the materials, the blonde collected it all and concealed it in an empty folder from her drawer before tucking it under her arm. Her eyes swept across her desk once more to ensure that all the necessary papers were with her when they fell on her forgotten coffee. She reached to grab it, not caring that by now it had gotten cold and probably tasted worse than it had before. She needed something to get rid of her cotton-mouth, even if that thing was bitter and reminded her of dirt.

After a swig, she stood from her chair, but nearly stumbled and had to catch herself with her desk. She hadn't realized how shaky she had become, and had failed to realize that such shakiness could very well impair her ability to walk. With a few deep breaths, and a reminder to herself that this was nothing to shake over, she recovered and continued on her quest.

No one in the bullpen looked at her as she walked the short distance from her office to Hotch's. Reid and Seaver were buried too deep in their paperwork to notice anything going on around them. Their newest agent Eli Abbott was busy trying to swindle another of Morgan's birthday cookies, while the older man simply chuckled at his attempts. JJ shook her head at Eli's antics. He'd been a member of the team for almost six months, but he still had a lot to learn.

Mere seconds later she reached Hotch's door. He was sitting alone in his office reading one of his own case files. He was obviously in deep thought, and was completely oblivious to what was going on just a few dozen feet away from his doorway.

The blonde knocked gingerly on the wooden door, but wasn't surprised to be met with a slightly startled look when he turned his head toward her. She smiled apologetically.

"Do you have a minute?"

Hotch nodded curtly in response. "I do. Take a seat."

After managing to close the door without much noise, JJ did as instructed, then moved the file from under her arm and into her lap. The older man watched her closely, one eyebrow raised just slightly as he waited for her get comfortable.

"Do we have a case?" He prompted, eyeing the manila folder she was absent-mindedly fiddling with.

"No, not exactly," JJ answered. Hotch's eyes squinted in moderate confusion at the cryptic answer, but he closed his file and set it to the side anyway as she prepared her explanation. He could tell this might take a while.

"I got a call from someone at National Security a while ago," she continued. "They had been receiving word on a string of homicides in the past couple months throughout Europe. Most seemed disconnected, and were written off as such. But three days ago, there was a murder that seems to tie them all together."

"And they want our help? In Europe?" His expression morphed into one of surprise and confusion. Intercontinental cases were so extremely rare that he'd only been involved in one throughout his whole career.

"No, it's not a case for us, per say. This last murder, well, that's just what it is. It's the last one," she stated.

Now, Aaron Hotchner was obviously a smart man, but the briefing he was receiving was making no sense to him whatsoever. "Well, then what did you need to talk to me about, JJ?"

"Hotch, the last victim was Ian Doyle," she said quietly before sliding a file across the desk to rest it in front of him. "All the men killed before him were his abettors and subordinates. He'd been on the run, all over Europe from the locations of the previous murders."

Though he would never show it, the realization had dawned immediately upon the Unit Chief as he looked down at the folder that had been presented. He picked it up slowly, almost cautiously, and began to skim through the surprisingly few number of papers.

JJ watched as he fingered through, noticing that he would nod ever so slightly at each new bit of information. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said that the older man had no reaction to the news. But she had seen the minor shift of his eyebrows and the insignificant slackening of his jaw, and she knew he was trying his hardest to keep his stoic demeanor.

After a few minutes of silence, he place the file back on his desk and closed it, but not giving it back to blond agent quite yet.

"Has anyone gotten ahold of Prentiss?" he asked. His voice was low out caution that anyone would overhear their conversation. Though they both knew that was unlikely considering the thickness of the door to Hotch's office.

But after shaking her head, JJ replied in a voice much the same. "Not that I know of. And I haven't tried either. All communication with her contact was lost approximately seven months ago."

"Not quite so coincidentally around the time of the first murders," he mused, referencing the file once more. He looked up at JJ to confirm his thoughts. "You believe it was her?"

"It all fits. She gave herself time to learn their patterns and get familiar with the sites, and then one by one she could pick them off. The plan was obviously careful and strategic, just like Emily."

Hotch looked back into the file, seeming to give it last second considerations. It was only moments before they made eye contact once more. "I don't want anyone getting word of this," he said sternly.

JJ turned her head to look out over the bullpen once more. Eli was triumphantly waving one of the large chocolate chip cookies in the air, obviously gloating to anyone who would listen, which wasn't anyone in the near vicinity. Derek was rolling his eyes. Ashley was shaking her head but smiling all the while. And Spencer just had that look on his face that said 'I have no idea what's going on.' She just knew that if information on Doyle's death got around to them, all of that liveliness would disappear in an instant.

It had taken months for the unit to be able to move on after the loss of Emily, and those months were long, painful, and something JJ knew everyone would rather forget. This news would just rip open healed wounds, bring back old feelings, and give rise to the opportunity to restart bad habits. They couldn't go through that again. And she couldn't go through that again, either. It was hard enough to keep Emily's status under wraps during the good times. But during those low points- well, keeping the secret came with enough guilt to nearly suffocate her.

So she turned back to face Hotch with a look that conveyed her compliance. "I completely agree. No one needs to know yet."

He nodded and held the folder back out to her. "I'd like a copy of those."

"Of course. I'll get them to you before the end of the day," she replied as she took the file in her hands and once more tucked it safely under the crook of her arm.

"Thanks, JJ."

The blonde took that as her cue to leave the office. So she stood from her chair and walked to the door, trying not to let him know that she was aware he was still watching her.

"One more thing," he said, just as her hand had taken hold of the doorknob. She turned, awaiting his request. "Try to get in touch with her."

She nodded again in response. Somehow, they both knew she had already intended to do so with or without Hotch's knowledge. But there was something plaguing her about the task, making her dread even the prospect of it.

"What if I can't?"

The man's face remained stolid, but JJ saw his eyes grow a bit darker at the thought. "Then I guess we wait."

The blonde left the office with those words, but as she walked back to her own office her mind was racing a mile a minute, thinking of all the possible ways she could find Emily. She hated leaving things like this to chance or fate or whatever other power there was, because the outcomes of doing so were rarely good. But in these situations, she knew, sometimes there was nothing else she could do.


End file.
